


Appetite

by porcelainepeony



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Respectfulshipping, SlashRyoken Event!, Smut, spectre/ryoken, speryo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainepeony/pseuds/porcelainepeony
Summary: Spectre isn’t the only one hungry for more than just food.Spectre/Ryoken (respectfulshipping) for the #slashryoken event! Sorry, I’m not good at summaries, but this is just smut, so a summary isn’t really needed, right?





	Appetite

Rated: M  
Word Count: ~960  
Pairing: Spectre/Ryoken  
Theme: Yearning  
Notes: Look I write these damn ficlets in the middle of the night so excuse me for typos and such. I’m tired and just want Ryoken to get a good fucking and also I’m tired.

xxx

The hunger had been there for years, eating away at Spectre’s composure, consuming his every thought, devouring the delicate control he so desperately clung on to. But from its first grumble, Spectre refused to satiate his craving, preferring the pangs of desire that tantalized his body whenever his gaze met Ryoken’s to the thought of pressing his tongue against Ryoken’s sun-kissed skin and possibly losing his favor.

Ryoken, however, had other thoughts. Thoughts that involved teasing Spectre with gentle smiles and comforting conversation, with rare laughs that rivaled the stars in brilliance and morning groans about needing caffeine to function properly. Thoughts that invoked Spectre’s hungry gaze and left him empty and parched despite the object of his endearment standing a mere foot away.

Spectre never envisioned Ryoken returning his desires—didn’t even know if Ryoken acknowledged his craving or noticed the sweet lingering touches or the strategic honeyed compliments—till the day Ryoken leaned back against his desk, cocked his head to the side, smirked, and ordered Spectre to take him.

“Excuse me?” Spectre asked, hands shaking by his side, eyes traveling down Ryoken’s chest and stomach and thighs before finding his gaze again.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move, but you clearly need a more direct approach,” Ryoken replied with a shrug.

Spectre swore there was a blush on Ryoken’s cheeks, but he could hardly decipher reality from daydreams. “Waiting?”

Ryoken nodded, “You’ve been neglecting me, Spectre.”

The words and their intention washed away Spectre’s doubts and, with a snort and smirk of his own, he sashayed closer to Ryoken, stopping in between Ryoken’s legs. He wasn’t accustomed to such confidence outside of dueling, but when Ryoken licked his lips, he mirrored Spectre’s own hunger and fueled Spectre’s appetite. “Then let me rectify my poor conduct,” he murmured, gripping onto Ryoken’s hips.

Whatever words of reply Ryoken thought to say drowned between their lips. Instead, a moan escaped Ryoken’s throat, his hands intensely gripping onto Spectre’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Spectre grinned, broke the kiss, pressed Ryoken down onto the desk. Ryoken sighed, the pink on his cheeks more prominent, more alluring than before. Spectre took the blush as a sign to discard Ryoken’s clothes, to rid him of anything that may bar him from quenching his thirst. Off came Ryoken’s pants and shoes, his underwear, the jacket and shirt he had to struggle free from. Lips and tongue covered Ryoken’s body thereafter, tasting skin, tracing bones, charting muscles. Fingers threaded through Spectre’s hair, pulled at his jacket, caressed his neck and face, yet Spectre ignored the touches in favor of consuming and savoring, of traveling down Ryoken’s body and showering him in the rightful devotion he deserved.

The moment Spectre’s lips reached Ryoken’s erection, a loud moan echoed in the room. Spectre chuckled, lifted Ryoken’s legs in the air and over his shoulders, and bent over to lavish attention on his needy member. While his tongue delighted in teasing, Spectre moved his hands to his pants, undid the zipper, slipped them and his underwear down his hips.

“Drawer on the right,” Ryoken read Spectre’s mind, shuddering when Spectre moved slightly to grab the lube. Spectre’s attention wasn’t diverted for long though, and before Ryoken could registered the sound of the drawer closing, Spectre’s lips wrapped around the tip of his arousal.

“Spectre!” Ryoken moaned, hands returning to their place in Spectre’s hair, hips jerking upward.

Spectre hummed around Ryoken’s length, amused at the desperate cries filling his ears. Craving more of those sounds, Spectre slowly swallowed Ryoken’s erection, experimentally bobbed his head, playfully constricted his throat around Ryoken’s arousal as he took more of him inside. 

Ryoken gasped, inhaled sharply, whined loudly. His legs were shaking as they floated midair, erection throbbing the more Spectre consumed. “Spectre,” he finally managed, the name strangled. Breathy. Heavy with need. “Please.”

The request made Spectre shiver. “As you command, Ryoken-sama,” he murmured after pulling away from Ryoken’s length. With a wide smile, Spectre gripped Ryoken’s thighs and dragged him to the edge of the desk. The look of surprise and excitement in Ryoken’s eyes caused Spectre to laugh softly, but it was the way Ryoken moaned when Spectre touched his lube-stained erection against his entrance that undid the little control Spectre retained and unleashed every last bit of desire he had caged inside.

When Spectre finally thrust inside, Ryoken threw his head back, a loud scream ripping past his lips. Hands gripped the edge of the desk. Legs shakily wove around Spectre’s waist. Something between a whine and Spectre’s name echoed in the room.

“Ryoken-sama,” Spectre breathed, eyes hungrily observing the way sweat trickled down Ryoken’s neck, how his back arched slightly off the desk, the way his body wriggled and begged Spectre to continue driving into him.

Not one to deny Ryoken what he wanted, Spectre pulled out and thrust back in, gripping Ryoken’s wrists to use as leverage, while Ryoken maintained his hold on the desk. With every thrust, Ryoken moaned. Gasped. Screamed. His body shook, legs trying their best to hold on as Spectre pounded into him, as he gripped hard enough to bruise, as he drank and savored the way Ryoken chanted for him. 

Spectre came first. Spilled inside with quivering intensity. Trembled above him as he watched Ryoken toss his head back and cum a moment after.

The grip on Ryoken’s wrists loosened. Hands moved quickly, steadying Ryoken’s spent body before he lost balance and toppled to the floor.

Opening his eyes, Ryoken met his gaze to Spectre’s and smiled, reached a hand up, weakly brushed Spectre’s hair away from his face. “Don’t ever neglect me again,” he commanded, voice barely a whisper.

Leaning into the touch, Spectre nodded and kissed Ryoken’s palm. Spectre never had to be told twice.


End file.
